


Unbound

by abigaillecters



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Bloodplay, F/M, hannigail, idk - Freeform, references to cannibalism, sm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigaillecters/pseuds/abigaillecters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could only see the beast you’ve made of me<br/>I held it in but now it seems you’ve set it running free<br/>Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart<br/>drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbound

**Author's Note:**

> I received a prompt on tumblr for a fic that involved SM and cuddles and then someone in the Hannigail tag asked for a fic based on the song Howl by Florence + The Machine so I combined the two ideas and ended up with this. One thing: I've never really written SM before so I just kinda dipped my toes in instead of jumping in????

"I'm so sorry Abigail" Hannibal says, tracing the contour of her cheekbone with his thumb. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in this life." Abigail's frightened by the cool tone of his voice and his touch leaves her skin hot yet chills her to the bone. As a tear slips down her porcelain cheek, he leans down and presses his lips to the now damp skin under her eye. 

"But I can give you a new life. With me." his thumb is still on her cheek and he plants light kisses under her eyes. She feels safe but she doesn't. There's a lump in her throat that she can't seem to swallow and it's difficult to speak.

"Do I have any other options?" she asks, drinking in the feeling of his lips on her face. 

He removes his lips from her cheek and looks her in her glassy, cerulean eyes. "No. You don't". She nods, taking a deep breath. Before she can say anything else, his mouth is on hers. The kiss is gentle, insistent, powerful. "Abigail, I said I couldn't protect you in this life. I can protect you in your new one. If you'll let me" he mutters against her lips.

"I want you to protect me" she replies, lips turned toward his cheek. He puts his hands on her shoulders and maneuvers her so that she's facing him again.

"You will have to do what I say. You will have to kill again, Abigail" Hannibal's voice is calm and clear. He knows the power that he holds over the girl and that as independent and strong-willed as she is, she feels bound to him and will do what he asks of her. 

"I will" her hands are shaky and her vision seems hazy. 

Somehow, Abigail and Hannibal manage to make it back to his house. She climbs up into the mezzanine and runs her fingers along the spines of the antique books like she's done so many times before. This time, though, it's different. She moves her hands along the books like she's trying to memorize them. Abigail knows she doesn't have much time. She doesn't hear him climb the ladder or feel his body behind hers but suddenly he's standing next to her with that trademark worried yet calm look in his eyes.

He only says one word, 'tonight', before climbing back down and disappearing into the kitchen. 

Hannibal lets Abigail flip through his roladex for their first victim. Carole Hunter. Abigail doesn't listen to Hannibal's story about why Carole found herself in the roladex and she doesn't particularly care. She wants to get it over with quickly and relatively neatly. She's had enough messiness for one lifetime. 

The actual details of the crime are fuzzy. Hannibal and Abigail are able to lure Carole away easily and they swiftly rid her of her meager life. There's blood though. Not as much as Abigail thought there would be but it stains her hands and she'll need to burn her lovely floral scarf. She wants Hannibal's voice to fill the silence but he doesn't speak. Words bubble and catch in her throat and she wants to crawl out of her skin. This is her life now. They will need to leave Baltimore soon but this secretive, dangerous, murderous life with Hannibal is all hers and she wants it but she doesn't. Part of her wishes that the drops of blood on Hannibal's fingers were hers. "I want to go home" Abigail says after Hannibal has taken all the parts of Carole that he needs and has disposed of her carcass and she sounds as if she might cry but she doesn't. 

They drive home in silence. When they reach the house, Abigail wordlessly goes into the bathroom while Hannibal prepares the meat that will be their next few meals. The sound of a shower running nearby is the soundtrack that accompanies the piling of meat in anti-freezer burn bags into the freezer. After 20 minutes of listening to the water fall, Hannibal wanders into the bathroom, worried. Abigail's showers usually don't take very long. 

She's sitting on the floor of the spacious shower, fully clothed. Abigail's mouth twitches and her body almost convulses; a side effect of prolonged exposure to cold water. "Abigail?" Hannibal asks.

She doesn't meet his gaze. "I thought I'd feel bad because I'd feel guilty. But I don't."

He steps in front of the glass shower door. "And what do you feel, Abigail?"

"It felt...good." The tears well up in her eyes and she swallows the ever present lump in her throat. "I liked watching her wither away. I felt powerful for the first time. But this blood won't come off," when she talks about the blood she lets herself cry, her tears masked by the falling water.

Hannibal removes his suit jacket and nothing else. He turns the knob from cold to warm as he steps under the shower head and slowly lowers himself down on the ground next to the shivering, slightly frightened girl. He holds her delicate, reddened fingers in his own. As she adjusts to the warmer water Hannibal takes her index finger and places it between his lips and onto his warm, wet tongue. He sucks gently for a bit before removing her finger and holding her hand in both of his. "There. All better" he smiles.

She looks up at him, searching his eyes for answers to all of the questions running through her mind. "Am I going to be like you?" she asks, tears mixed with water spilling down her cheeks. Before he can reply, she presses her lips to his. Want and need for him pours out of every fiber of her being. Her arms wrap around his neck and his mouth opens for hers. Somehow, their clothes end up in a sopping pile outside of the shower and she's lowered herself onto his lap. Rocking back and forth gently at first and then gradually more aggressively, she sucks bruises into his neck as he grabs her hips and pushes himself deeper into her. "There's no hope for me, is there?" she whispers against his throat.

"There's no hope for who you used to be. You're all mine now," he tangles his fingers into her dark chestnut hair. She starts to bite lightly at his neck, only biting harder when Hannibal asks her to. His voice dissolves into a low growl when he asks her yet again to bite down harder. His skin tastes faintly of expensive aftershave first and then strongly of blood. She lets the warm, metallic liquid wash over her tongue. She doesn't hate the way it tastes, almost likes it. 

"I'm going to be a killer like you. I think I've always had it in me but you brought it out," her voice takes on a sultry tone as she continues leaving proof that she was there along Hannibal's neck and clavicle. As Abigail pauses to catch her breath Hannibal lets his primal instinct take over. Grabbing her hair by the nape of her neck and exposing her throat, he thrusts harder, egged on by the way his name sounds coming from her mouth. "You did this to me. You're turning me into a monster," her voice sounds almost happy.

"Say it again," he groans.

"You did this" her breathing becomes heavier, faster. Hannibal kisses her lips fiercely, hungrily. He moves his lips down her neck and onto the raised pink flesh of her scar. He bites down carefully, so as not to cause too much bleeding, but when the first drop of her blood touches his tongue he can't help but want her more. 

She sighs Hannibal's name as she comes, her body tightening and releasing around his cock. Hannibal lets himself get carried away by the intensity of his own orgasm shortly after Abigail's. 

Basking in the afterglow under the still-running shower, they need to talk about the future and how they should go about having one but instead they lie in silence, wrapped up in each other. 

Abigail leans down to nuzzle Hannibal's chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against her tongue. 

"Dr. Lecter?" she asks quietly.

"Abigail, after all we've been through I really don't think you need to call me Dr. Lecter again," she smiles and the way it lights up her face brings him both joy and sadness, like the last time you kiss someone whom you really care about but you know in your heart you'll never see them again.

"Alright then. Hannibal?" she strokes his neck with her thumb.

"What is it, Abigail?"

"Your water bill is going to be huge," Hannibal lets out the first real laugh that Abigail has ever heard from him. She likes his laugh. It's genuine and rare.

Rather than turning the water off, getting out of the shower, and cleaning up like adults, they lie there with their limbs entwined for a little while longer. They have bigger things to worry about than an increase in the monthly water bill.

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry idk


End file.
